


Past Zero Time 3.5: Challenge

by CavalierConvoy



Series: Primax 984α-ﬡג, Iteration 1: Brash [4]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One)
Genre: Arguing, Confrontations, Emotionally Repressed, Internal Conflict, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: Ultra Magnus didn't sign up to deal with an ex-Con with whom he had shared something more than a friendship in the pre-war past., but with the fuse lit and counting down to a confrontation between a united Autobot front and a desperate Decepticon army, he will need to get the problem sorted before internal fireworks explode.
Relationships: Ultra Magnus/Original Character(s)
Series: Primax 984α-ﬡג, Iteration 1: Brash [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882957





	Past Zero Time 3.5: Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> This one's re-dedicated to Mojira.
> 
> Timeline: between chapters 3 and 4 o Past Zero Time. Originally written in 2002 as a side-story to PZT.

Challenge

***

Door chimes were never her nature. Even in her own quarters, she had disconnected the chime, requiring those who wanted to enter to knock.

With two knuckles, she knocked softly on the door to the city commander's office. He'd have known who it was; no one else would refuse to use that damned chime. It was too cheerful, like a morning bird just waking up. Well, slot that, she wasn't a morning person.

She could practically hear his hesitation; finally, he barked out "Come."

_ Didn't really matter.  _ If he had ignored her, she would have entered anyway. If he had locked the door, it was simple enough to cross a couple of wires in a panel to short it out.

The doors opened, and she strode in, her head held high; the doors closed, and her pace slowed as she approached the desk where he sat, attempting to look busy, ignoring her, perhaps, until it was absolutely necessary. She halted in front of the desk, bowing her head somewhat as she clasped her hands behind her.

The good part of a cycle passed before he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Well, what is it?" He finally demanded, not looking up from his monitor screen. "I haven't got all day."

She took a deep breath, staring down at her feet. "I...I'm not good at this," she finally stammered out, "But...I wanted to thank you...thank you for what you did today..."

"It's my duty to protect the denizens of this city from danger," he explained coolly, as though stating a foreign concept to her. "Is that all?"

A blanket of uncomfortable restlessness fell upon the room. She inhaled, exhaled, her shoulders rising and falling.

"You went out of your way," she countered evenly--true gratitude, she had a problem with; however, stating a challenge, that she could do, "to catch me."

"It was a matter of convenience."

"You're lying," she retorted. The cute sorry had failed to get a rise out of him; it was time to lay the challenge thick. "Convenience would have sent one of the fliers to catch me. Jumping from an alcove three floors up is not my definition of convenience."

He stood, quick, angered, answering her challenge with body language rather than words.

"You were more likely to let me fall." Part of her had hoped he would kick her out, tell her that it was a lack of judgement on his part. "So why did you do it? Why bother with me when you could have just as easily called up one of the fliers--"

She felt him round the desk, his presence heavy, almost claustrophobic, at her side. She had forgotten how large he was, even compared to herself.

"Look at me." He ordered briskly, his voice neutral, betraying nothing.

He accepted her challenge, and issued his own. Unclasping her hands as though preparing for a fight, she pivoted on her heel, then lifted her gaze to meet his.

His glare had all his weight into it; anyone underneath it would turn away shortly. Still, she managed to keep locked within, refusing to back down.

How long could she stand there? He wasn't going to break optic contact, it wasn't his style.

It was once again her turn to challenge.

She shifted her weight; he probably thought she was breaking down, to turn away and leave.

That, she allowed her mouth to quirk ever so slightly, was not her style.

She leapt abruptly, causing him to step back in slight surprise. Good. Wouldn't want him to fall over for what she had in store.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him, more testing the waters than anything.

There was her challenge.

She had expected him to back down, push her away, tell her to get the hell out of his office. After all, this wasn't in his job description.

She felt his large hands on her hips, as though he was going to pick her off and set her down; rather, they remained where they were, and so did she.

If anything, he surprised her; he pressed forward, deepening the kiss, as though searching for something that had been missing for a very long time.

She had counted on him proving her wrong, to resist, to do anything but this! Primus-dammit, it would have been so much easier had he just shoved her away, proving her feelings were one-sided, a silly infatuation that would go away, reassuring herself that's all she was capable of.

But no, this wasn't the way she had intended this to go.

Still, she did not want to pull away.

_ Dammit!  _ This had become more difficult than she intended!

Reluctantly, she attempted to pull her head back, only for him to hold her tighter, kissing her with a passion she had not fathomed him possessing. Pent up frustration. It had to be. Probably never had someone approach him like this before, and of course, what type of person ever went after the career soldier anyway? Yeah, maybe that's it. Nothing more than pent up frustration.

No. As much as she wished it true, she knew it wasn't. It went deeper than that; he wasn't that shallow.

_ This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. _

Planting her hands flat against his chest, she pushed away from his hold, losing her balance and falling onto her backside.

"Damn you!" she spat, trying to recollect her scattered thoughts.

"I should say the same to you," he retorted angrily.  _ Oh, thank Primus, he's pissed off at me again. _

Neither moved, nor broke optical contact.

"Tell me that was pent up frustration," she whispered, lacking strength. Most of her wanted to rush back into his arms, held with a stability she had never known.

She watched his jaw clench, his brow deepen, before he turned his back on her.

_...! _

"Oh, dammit!" She fell back, staring at the ceiling. "It wasn't, was it?"

"Get up."

She sat up fluidly, crossing her arms over her knees, but did not make any move to actually stand. Instead, she stared hard at his back.

"I take it this did not go as you planned." His statement was delivered cold, surprising her.

"No..." she dropped her gaze. "It didn't."

"How was it supposed to work?"

"You were supposed to tell me to get the hell out of your office."

He glared over his shoulder. "I can still do that. I said get up. I meant to your feet."

Dejected, she did as told, wrapping her arms around her midsection in a hipshot.

"Why did you do it?" he then demanded.

"If I said pent up frustration, would it make it easier?"

"Is it easy for you to lie?"

"Yeah, but I don't like doing it." She exhaled sharply. "Magnus, I...I wanted to prove to myself that my...that what I felt was one-sided...and if you pushed me away, I could just bury my feelings and move on." Pivoting sharply, she trembled, hugging herself tightly. "I'm sorry." When she did not receive a reply, she then added, "I know my way out. I won't bother you any further."

"Artemis, wait."

"No." She refused to look at him; if she did, she would lose the strength she finally mustered. "You said you couldn't trust me, that you would never forgive me. You hold true to your promises, Magnus." Inhaling sharply, she finally mustered the courage to face him. "You can't forgive me."

He had closed the distance between them while her back was turned; she had to crane her neck to look up at him now.

"Can you?" Her challenge was soft, lacking any strength.

"You're not asking for it."

"What is there to forgive? I might have done stuff that went against your code of honour, but I did what I thought was right. I might have made mistakes, but--"

"No."

She halted her sentence, her face strangely stoic. "You can't trust me."

"No."

"I will not go through that again," she stated simply, coolly. "I've been there before. Believed if I loved something enough, they would return that feeling, show some good. I forgave, I trusted, and look where it got me. Thrown off a building to my intended death. Forgive me for being such a blind, lovesick idiot, but that's the only thing I'll ask of you. I learned my lesson. And I won't allow those I care about fall for the same mistake I did. I know what you're feeling, Magnus; it's better to just bury it and forget it."

"Then why did you come in the first place?"

"Because I thought you hated me."

"I don't..." He had hit the verge of yelling. Quickly, he regain his composure, if only slightly. "I don't hate you. I hate what you've done, but I don't hate you."

Tonight was just full of surprises; this was no exception. "Magnus, this isn't like you, separating deeds from the person."

"I don't know what to think," he snapped.

"Me neither," she responded softly. "We're alike, in that aspect, aren't we?"

She couldn't look at him anymore. Turning away, she hugged herself, waiting for him to give the order to leave. It wasn't really her nature, but it would make him feel more in control.

"The question now is what do we do?" It was the city commander who broke the silence.

"We do nothing." Her voice was low, her optics narrowed. "We go back as it was before. We pretend this never happened."

"We avoid each other."

"Just like we did before."

"You say that with such conviction."

"I know."

"Why?"

"Why..." Shaking her head, she laughed shortly. "Even if you said you'd forgive me, I would know it was a false forgiveness. And you don't lie. Doesn't matter anyway; I don't deserve you, not the least bit."

The silence that followed was choking, and she realised he was not going to give the order to leave any time soon. Well, slot that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, striding to the door.

"Lock," he barked; the computer complied with a slight buzz. "We're not finished here, Artemis."

"There's nothing more to say!" she protested. "Now unlock this door before I have to resort to desperate measures. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"How long have you lied to yourself?" He demanded curtly, clenching his fists. "How long, Artemis? Do you even know who you are anymore?"

Now he wasn't holding back; his words struck her like a club. Issuing an anguished cry, she stormed to the door controls and pried off the cover, her fingers shaking as she groped for the manual lock override.

She felt his hands on her shoulders, a firm grip, not one that could be easily shrugged off.

"Let me go," she whispered, trembling. "Please."

"You're just going to forget about what just happened."

"It's best for both of us."

"Bury it."

"Yes."

"Hide from it."

Her jaw clenched at that point.

"Let it fester until it consumes you. Fight it, deny its existence, bury it further...Artemis, when does it end?"

Tilting her head upwards so she stared up at him with wide, hurt optics, she shook her head slightly.

"It doesn't." This, she mouthed, her voice failing her.

"Face me." This wasn't an order; his tone had softened.

Slowly, she turned, averting her gaze from him.

"How long have you buried what you didn't want to deal with?"

"I don't remember," she responded in a monotone.

"How many feelings have you buried?"

"I don't remember," she repeated.

She watched his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. Releasing her shoulders, he then cupped her face with his hands and lifted her head to meet his gaze.

It wasn't the hard, cool, collective glare he normally possessed; instead, it was soft, warm, with a jumble of sympathy, confusion and other emotions lingering behind those blue optics.

"When you find the real Artemis," he whispered, "send her my way. I'd like to see her again."

With that, he brought his face to hers and gave her lips a light, chaste kiss. Slowly, he pulled away from her, releasing his hold, stepping away from her, turning his back onto her.

"Now," he suddenly boomed, startling the femme, "get the hell out of my office."

"I can't," she rifled back, pivoting sharply towards the door, pulling her usual composure around her tightly like a security blanket. "You locked the door, soldier, remember?"

"Unlock." His order was brisk, almost impatient. As the doors finally slid open, she stormed out without looking back, a thundering march.

She was going to have to work harder to avoid him now.


End file.
